


Color Blind

by SML8180



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood and Gore, Hemophilia, I HC that the Author/Host wears an alert tag that states he has Hemophilia, Injury, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, That Soulmate AU where they can't see color until they meet, This turned out angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SML8180/pseuds/SML8180
Summary: Dr. Iplier had never seen color, and being a man who drowned himself in his work, he resigned himself to the idea he might never see more than black and white.The Author had never seen color, though he wasn't bothered by the fact. What he worried about was the form of a man with no eyes.These assumptions change when they first meet, though it is bitter-sweet at best for both of them.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Color Blind

**Author's Note:**

> This story was heavily inspired by the story Metamorphosis by Doctor_Discord. If you haven't checked out their work yet, I would highly recommend it. Their stories are fantastic.
> 
> Anyways, this story popped up after I read Metamorphosis, and was then going through my prompt notebook and found one that was just, "That Soulmate AU where you can't see color until you meet them". This was the result.

Doctor Edward Iplier had never seen color. He hadn’t met the right person to bring that light into his world. The man was so engrossed with his work that he was starting to resign himself to the idea that he might never meet them.

The Author had never seen the world in color. It didn’t concern him, though. He had his characters, and his cabin; he didn’t care whether or not he ever saw color. The grey world didn’t bother him.

What did bother him, though, was the figure he kept seeing in every reflective surface in his cabin. He had a light streak cutting through the left side of his dark hair, a pale trench coat, dark tears streaming down his cheeks from where his eyes  _ should  _ have been; but they weren’t there. The figure didn’t have eyes at all; just empty sockets. It had started with the occasional sighting out of the corner of his eye, maybe while he walked by a window, but the sightings became more and more common. By the time the newest ego showed up, the Author was seeing the eyeless man just about everywhere he went.

Despite being shaken by the unnerving vision, the Author made his way to the manor where all the others lived. They preferred to not have him around; they claimed he was too sadistic and dangerous. That didn’t bother him; though, he still decided to come around from time to time, just to investigate, maybe cause a little trouble. He knew there was a new ego around, and he intended to meet them.

The manor was mostly quiet when the Author let himself in. Given, there weren’t very many egos living there. There was Dark and Wilford, the Jim twins, and the King of the Squirrels; really not many, especially when compared to some of the visions he’d seen. There were many more yet to come, and he hummed at the idea as he made his way into the living area where the others were most likely gathered.

“I heard through the grapevine that there was a new… ego…,” the Author began, his voice trailing off as he entered the room, his eyes landing on the unfamiliar ego in the room.

His world suddenly looked different; it wasn’t simply black and white anymore. Everything exploded into full color; he saw the red of King’s shirt, the blues of the twins clothing, the red and blue flickering in Dark’s aura, the bright pink of Wilford’s bowtie and mustache. The newest ego wore a bright white lab-coat, with pale blue scrubs, and looked over at him with the warmest brown eyes he had ever seen; the  _ only  _ ones he had ever seen.

Dr. Iplier heard a new voice and looked up, spotting a man coming into the room. He couldn’t help but stare as the man came in. His vision wasn’t just black and white, as soon as he laid eyes on him. He saw muted colors; things weren’t as bright as he thought they would be.

“ _ What  _ are you doing here, Author?” Dark’s voice cut through the silence, pulling both egos from their trance.

The Author cleared his throat, “I just came to say hello to the new ego. A doctor, I didn’t think you’d be around this soon,” he stated, trying to sound as casual as he could. He was still staring at the doctor in front of him, watching as the man stood and cautiously approached. The man wore a head mirror, and the Author could see himself in the reflection. He saw his black hair, black shirt and dark jeans. What caught his attention though, was his own eyes; while the doctor’s were warm brown, his were  _ gold. _ He knew his eyes were likely a unique color, but he never knew they were golden.

“Dr. Iplier,” the doctor simply introduced. He had stopped a few feet away from the Author. The others had told him about the sadistic man, and he had no intention of getting much closer.

“The Author,” the older ego replied. He was still in awe of all the color, but he was pulled from his thoughts by the eyeless figure he spotted standing behind him in the reflection he saw in the doctor’s head mirror. Now, he could tell what the dark streaks on his face were. They were blood. The Author stumbled back, watching as his reflection morphed in the mirror, becoming the image of the eyeless figure. “I had just come to see who the new ego was. Curiosity satisfied. I’ll just… I’m going to go…” With that, the man turned, leaving the others confused as to what had just happened.

The Author rushed back to his cabin, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Everything felt so  _ bright  _ now that it was in color. He hurried inside, halting as he saw what seemed to be a physical manifestation of the eyeless man in front of him. The man picked up his metal bat, swinging it as the figure, but it simply passed right through as the eyeless man grinned at him, blood staining his teeth red.

Soon, the Author found that every reflective surface held the image of the eyeless man. It was then when he finally broke. It was terrifying. He couldn’t stop himself from swinging his bat, breaking every piece of glass he could. When it was done, the Author dropped his bat, falling to his knees as he breathed in heavy, shuddering gasps. He was practically numb, hardly feeling the shards of glass cutting through his pants, cutting into his knees. He could still see the eyeless man, there was one of him grinning in every shard in his view. It was the final straw. The Author screamed as he screwed his eyes shut, pressing his palms to his eyes. His nails raked through his hair, scratching the skin by his temples. At that point, he couldn’t stop himself, only hearing his own yells as he scratched at his own skin, his nails getting closer and closer to his eyes as he started to see blood dripping onto the floor.

The pain distracted him from the grinning eyeless man, as his nails dig into his eyes. He could feel the blood and tears on his hands, but he didn’t stop. He  _ couldn’t  _ stop. The Author didn’t even pause as the door to the cabin opened, and the crunch of broken glass under a person’s feet approached him. His eyes were no longer firmly in his sockets where they belonged. He just needed a firm pull, and they would be gone; he would never have to see the figure of the eyeless man again.

“Author?!” came a concerned yell. He could recognize Dr. Iplier’s voice as he rushed over. He could feel the doctor’s hands on him, trying to get him to stop scratching at his eyes.

It was too late.

The final pull the doctor gave in an attempt to stop the Author was what finally resulted in his optic nerves snapping. The Author gave another scream, despite his voice starting to grow hoarse from all his yelling. His eyes were gone.

“Oh my god, oh my  _ god _ ,” he heard Dr. Iplier exclaim. “Why would you do this?” he asked cautiously, his voice shaking a bit. His hands still gripped the Author’s wrists, the man’s golden eyes held loose in his grasp.

The Author took a moment to reply, his voice hoarse and shaking, “I didn’t want to see him anymore…”

“There’s so much blood,” Iplier muttered. The Author could hear the man stand, his feet crunching over the glass shards on the ground as he went to get something to try to stop the bleeding. He returned shortly after, unable to find anything that wasn’t covered in fine shards of glass. “I’m going to take your shirt off you. I need to stop this bleeding,” he stated, hurriedly pulling at the man’s shirt, undoing the buttons and pulling it off him. The Author simply let it happen.

“You can’t…” he murmured, despite making no move to stop the doctor.

“What do you…” Dr. Iplier began to question, before he spotted the ball chain and tag hanging around the Author’s neck. The tag was adorned with a medical cross, and the doctor turned it over in his hand, scanning the text on it. “You’re a fucking  _ Hemophiliac _ , of course. Explains how much blood there is,” he grumbled. “I’m getting you to the manor,” he told the Author, tightly tying the man’s shirt over his eyes, doing his best to at least slow the bleeding.

“They won’t want me there,” the Author protested, feeling himself getting lifted up by the doctor. He could feel the pain from the glass in his knees, now, and he faintly winced.

“They’ll just have to put up with it. As a doctor, I cannot just stand by and let someone bleed out,” Iplier told him. He lead the bleeding man to the manor, rushing him to the clinic he was working to set up inside so he could tend to the other egos in the house. By then, blood was dripping from the Author’s chin, leaving a trail on the floor.

Dr. Iplier worked for what felt like ages, finally getting the Author’s bleeding to stop. He cleaned all his wounds, picking the glass out of his knees, applying a few stitches to the worst of the cuts. He washed the blood from the man’s face, disinfecting his sockets and wrapping bandages around the man’s head. Finally, the Author was stable, dreamlessly sleeping on the bed, leaving Dr. Iplier to take in the mess that had been made of the clean clinic. Red dots trailed towards the bed, while more red stained the white gauze and cotton he had used to clean the man up. His thoughts came to a halt at that, as he stared at the red trail that had been left on the floor, before his gaze drifted to the sleeves of his coat, finding them stained a deep crimson.

He was seeing in full color.

Now he knew why the Author had halted upon seeing him.

He looked at the man on the bed, smiling faintly to himself, before a wave of sadness hit him. While he was finally seeing the world in true color, his true love, his soul mate, would never get to enjoy the same thing. Edward Iplier could finally see in color, while the Author, would be forever blind.


End file.
